


Pancakes

by littlemarvelfics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16795087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemarvelfics/pseuds/littlemarvelfics
Summary: Steve comes home from a mission and you try to cheer him up.





	Pancakes

You knew something was wrong the moment you walked into your apartment. Steve was home from his latest mission and usually, that meant an old jazz record and a kiss at the front door. Tonight, however, it was silent and Steve was nowhere to be found. You set your things down and kicked off your shoes before wandering through your home looking for him. 

When you finally found him in your shared bedroom, your heart sank. He was sitting on the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He was in just his boxers, his uniform left crumpled in the corner of the room. He was covered in grime and dried blood; your stomach turned at the thought of who it may have belonged to. 

You had seen Steve in almost every state imaginable. You had seen him when he had too much of Thor’s Asgardian liquor and got rambunctious. You had seen him keep up the tough Captain America exterior when he thought you might be in harm’s way, no matter how big or small. You had seen him be fiercely protective if a guy dared to try and flirt with you when Steve could hear him. You’d seen him laugh until his sides hurt and Bucky and Sam’s antics. And you’d seen him cry when he felt like he would never truly find the place he belonged in this decade. But you had never seen him quite like this. So utterly broken. He looked like the war he’d been fighting since the 1940s was finally catching up to him. 

“Steve?” you whispered as you walked into the room. 

Steve’s head snapped up when he heard you speak. He took in your appearance, dressed for your office job minus the shoes he assumed were abandoned immediately after walking in the door. Your hair looked disheveled and your eyes held nothing but concern. Concern for him. Steve would never understand how he got so lucky. How a chance meeting in a coffee shop turned into the best year of his life with a woman who seemed to bring light wherever she went. He brought his head back down, not able to come up with anything useful to say. He heard you shuffle into the room and felt the bed dip next to him when you sat down before running your hand up and down his bare back. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked quietly. 

He looked at you and the dam broke. The tears he had been holding back starting falling before he could try and stop them. 

“Why do I do this Y/N? Why do I fight when there’s always another war coming right around the corner?” 

“Because Steve Rogers cannot walk away from a fight.” 

Steve chuckled and faced you. You continued running your hand up and down his back and kissed the side of his head. 

“But seriously? It’s because you’re a good man Steve. You're a man who puts everyone first, even when it’s at your own expense. That’s why you fight Steve. Because you can and you make the world safer every time you do.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while before you spoke again. 

“Have you eaten?” you asked. 

“Nope, not yet.” 

“Okay, you go shower because you clearly haven’t done that either yet and I’m gonna make dinner. I’m thinking pancakes.” 

“Pancakes? For dinner?” Steve questioned. 

“Steve, I may never fully understand the toll avenging takes on you. But I do know that in kindergarten when my crush Austin told me I had cooties, my mom made me approximately one million pancakes that night and everything was okay just for a little while.” 

Steve laughed and shook his head. 

“It’s worth a shot doll.” 

After Steve showered and came into the kitchen, the two of you starting eating pancakes. The sticky syrup got everywhere, neither of you being particularly cautious in the pursuit of food. Steve said little about the mission and you didn’t try to push him for information. You knew he would tell you when he was ready. Instead, you talked about what he had missed that week, nothing spectacular but Steve listened to your every word with intense interest. Eventually, the two of you headed back into the bedroom, going about your routines before settling in bed, your head on Steve’s chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you to sleep until he spoke again. 

“Thank you for loving me when I still tasted of heartache and war.” 

You paused for a moment before shifting to look up at him. 

“Please tell you didn’t come up with that just now because it’s really not fair that you’re good at everything, you can’t be an incredibly romantic poet on top of it all. Your girl wouldn’t stand a chance of ever keeping her pants on.” 

“No,” he said with a laugh. “I read it somewhere a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you.” 

“Well, I plan to keep loving you no matter what you taste like so prepare yourself for a life of pancake dinners.” 

“Absolutely nothing would make me happier.” 

You giggled while you laid back down on Steve’s chest. You knew things weren’t fixed and the pancake high might wear off tomorrow but for tonight, you could at least pretend that breakfast food had fixed everything. 


End file.
